Rueln Layheart

I had to admit that by day three, I was enjoying myself. It turned out that I liked Melo. The lanky giant was eager to teach me the work. I would stay with him until the noon meal when he would send me to the first wagon for our lunch, then I would return to him and we would continue down the mountain road until Master Esra stole me for the last few hours of the day. After caring for Master Esra’s horses and her guildmate’s gelding, we were herded to the back for lessons. Finn and I would perform drills until the fires were put out and it was time for bed. 

That was all well enough, no more or less than I expected at this point, but nothing compared to learning about the social structure of the caravan crew itself. For some reason, watching the people within the caravan became my favorite way to pass the long hours walking with Melo on sentry duty. Mistress Harty was the vice head of the group, and everyone obeyed her orders except the head merchant, Vigeri. He had more wrinkles than hair but somehow moved with the energy of a much younger man. It surprised me on the second day when I saw him get up onto his horse without assistance despite the large belly protruding under his belted tunic. 

Gorgeo was the cook and despite his outwardly irritable first impression, he wasn’t too bad. After that first day, he’d greet me with a grunt and hand over mine and Melo’s rations before waving me on. I only found out after I returned with lunch that he had wrapped a cookie in the cloth in mine. At first, I had thought it was Melo’s and offered it to the big man, but he laughed and said that his Da always did that when there were kids traveling with them. Bribery, it must be. Even if it was, though, it was a good cookie. 

Then there were the people who handled the animals, others that drove the wagons, and still more that worked like Melo as sentries, rotating in shifts. Everyone knew their job and did it well, not needing orders to be thrown about at every turn to keep things going smoothly. It was obvious, even to me, that they had been working together for several years like this. The only hitch that seemed to come was when Miss Rosie made her rounds with her water pale several times a day.

“Are you needing a drink, Rueln?” Rosie asked, and I turned to see the heavyset young woman walking just behind me. As soon as I saw her I couldn’t help but smile, and stopped to take the ladle she offered even as I slid my eyes over to my companion. Hearing her voice, Melo’s face turned red as he tried to stammer out a greeting to her. 

“He-hello, Rosie, are yo-you getting along well?” He asked, his eyes constantly moving, unable to so much as look at the young woman. 

I finished my drink, trying to hold back a laugh, and let the ladle drop back into the pale. Rosie graced me with a kind look and then offered the ladle to Melo. “Oh, I’m fine, Melo. Here, have a drink.”

“Ye-Yes,” he agreed, accepting it hurriedly only to spill it all down his front. 

Rosie giggled and then offered the man her handkerchief to clean himself with while she scooped up another ladleful of water and presented it to him. When he reached for it this time, she tsked her tongue at him and said, "No. I'll hold it Melo. Best not waste what little water we have on your shirt." Her good-natured teasing turned him red, but he bent and allowed her to tip the drink into his mouth. 

If they stared at each other any harder I was going to gag, I decided when neither moved even after the ladle was empty. I coughed and kicked Melo's leg, jerking the man back to reality. "We're being left," I pointed out as the last wagon passed us. 

It was Rosie's turn to blush, tucking her mess of black curls back behind her ear and smiling shyly. "Better get back to it then," she said. "I'll see you Melo."

"Yeah...Yeah! See you, Rosie," Melo called as she walked away. She turned and waved, then disappeared around the other side of the caravan train to offer water to the other sentries. Melo's shoulders slumped a little, but he cleared his throat and looked down, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Better get back to our places," Melo said, motioning with his head for me to follow him.

"Why don't you just kiss her?" I asked bluntly as we started back to our post. Melo stumbled and jerked his head around to look at me, shocked that I had asked. "You want to don't you?" I insisted.

Melo's face turned so red, I thought someone threw paint on him. "What? No! Tha-That's not for you to ask someone!" He said, too flustered to even look at me anymore. "Who I kiss or don't kiss isn't for children to worry about." He turned away, done with the subject.

"I don't get it," I mumbled to myself, frowning now. I thought I had it right, but I guess I didn't. Grown-ups could be pretty weird and they did stuff that didn't make sense all the time. If he didn't want to kiss her he could have just told her because I'm pretty sure she wanted to kiss him and why did he hide her handkerchief in his pocket? I shook my head and resigned myself to the fact that I just wasn't going to get it.

A crack loud enough to reverberate inside my bones cut off any further thought on the subject. The middle wagon’s front half crashed to the road, the wheels bending inward awkwardly under the sudden pressure. Melo acted, running forward to help calm the horse team as they reared and tried to shy away from their broken charge. It took them several long minutes to calm the animals down while the wagon and merchandise the wagon carried were inspected for damages. 

The entire caravan was halted while the head merchant and vice merchant discussed their options. From what I could see from their expressions, it wasn’t good. Melo and the other sentries worked to unload the broken wagon, and put what they could in the other two, but it was only a partial solution. There were too many goods for just two teams to pull. If they weren’t careful, they would overload another wagon and cause another accident to happen. 

“What happened?” Finn asked, appearing at my side. With his sentry busy, he must have come to find me. 

“The axle broke,” I answered, kicking a small rock with my boot.

Finn whistled. “That’s not goin’ to be a repair they can fix overnight. They have spare wheels tied to ropes underneath the wagons in case they need them, but an axle has to be made special.”

“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” I asked, looking up to see if I could find Master Esra in the crowd. I wasn’t sure how this incident would affect our job. She stood just behind Fayr, talking with Mistress Harty.

“Yeah,” my friend sighed. “We’re goin’ to be here for at least a few days if not a week while a new axle is made.” While he spoke, I watched as the merchants came to a decision and our Master broke away and started toward us. Peach followed behind her, looking bored on her lead.